Title: |
Poetical Rhythm |
Author: |
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Date: |
14 November 2011 |
Category: |
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Rating: |
5 |
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He is actually quite the common man except a rugged handsomeness and eyes the could look right through a girl and make her nervous and make her want to play with herself at the same time. More than once I have done the big "M" with him in mind while my husband slept. Or during sex I thought of him while my husband tried to do his best, once I almost called out the old man's name, now that would have been a mess. With me size does make a difference and my husband's is half the size of that old man's. He called me kid or kiddo, so I called him old man, he loved it. I was 27 when we first met, it was in a coffeehouse and he was in his mid 50s but six feet and two with eyes of blue, 212 pounds of broad shoulders, 48" chest ( I love well developed chests) and a 35" waist, I know this because I measured them all even his dingle just before I made him come and that was an awesome eight and a half inches of pure pleasure and quite the eruption, he got his goo all over cloth tape measure. I still have it with his love stains :) I am an athletic girl, five feet and eight inches tall, 125 pounds on a good day, with 35Cs and a narrow waist to the old man's taste and he loved my tan lines. He is a very oral man and I totally loved that about him; he wanted to make me happy, sensually happy. From his kisses to his handsome face between my legs I just loved what he did to me and he was so good at it. He is the only man that has given me multiple orgasms, wave after wave of heat and passions, of heat and a cravings, of gooseflesh and trembling. There was times that all I wanted was to take that thing of his off in its full hardness and keep it inside of me for a few days, that is the type of craving he created in me. The old man in Bellingham, "sigh" I miss him, no one could do me like him and of course I mean my husband as the only other man in my life. But now we are back in the New England states with kids and to get to Bellingham without my husband would be a lot of explaining and I haven't it in me to explain except awesome sex with an older man that is a sexual poet. He could make me dance at the foot of his bed because of love, passion and joy. And of course I made him happy too, I did things to him that I could never do with my husband, nasty things, besides, I hear that he has another young lover my age, (from a girl I use to work with) "sigh" well, he deserves a nice lover I guess, but I know I was the best, he said so, we moved together like natural magic, like pen and parchment in poetical rhythm.
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